Talking Agenda
by HugsForTheMercy
Summary: Drabbles. Sherlock decides to undertake an experiment focusing on social interaction with his partner John. They take it in turns to decide the topics. Will they become more comfortable and closer? Does talking really work ?
1. Chapter 1

John Watson "Food"

-Food ? Is that all you think about John? You're obsessed.

-Just because_ you_ never think about food does not mean that I am obsessed Sherlock.

-if you're not thinking about eating you are eating.

-Sherlock you wanted to talk, so talk- and don't insult me.

-Hmmh.

-Yes 'Hmmh'. Tell me when you last ate. What was it? Was it nice?

Sherlock gave John a sarcastic glare, he had requested that John chose the subject and he had chosen something so boring. So mundane. When was the last time he ate? What had he eaten?

-Toast. It was cold.

John let out a light laugh. Of course it had been cold. Had he expected anything else, really ?

-Did you have anything on it.

-No.

-How did you feel after you'd eaten it ?

-Stop it. I didn't feel like anything.

-Sorry, that was a bit obvious wasn't it?

-Yes.

-Do you honestly think I eat a lot ?

-No, but when you have a meal it is clear whether you enjoy it or not. And when you do eat you are generally quite contented and quiet. I've also noticed that after you're full you aren't as grumpy.

-Grumpy ?

-Short, ill tempered.

-It's natural to feel better once you've had food, your sugar levels go up, your energy. You're missing out Sherlock, you really are.

Sherlock scoffed in John's face.

-Missing out on getting fat ?

-Yes. Nice and fat.

-You'd like that then you'd look skinny next to me.

-Uh-oh Busted!

-Well and truly sir. Well and truly.

-Would you like me fat John. Nice and fat?

-Sherlock, behave.

Sherlock brought his hands together under his chin and lent back into the sofa the two men were sat on.

-Sorry.

John in turn lay his hand on Sherlock's thigh and let his head fall back. He felt comfortable sitting here with this man, talking.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock Holmes "Sleep"

-You dream a lot don't you John ?

-Yeah quite a bit. Why ?

-What is it that you dream about ? it's not the war, I know that but I can't figure out-

-Us, it's us Sherlock. That's what I dream about.

-Us ? Really?

-Really, really.

-I don't understand John, you seem upset, scared.

-I-um-Sherlock…

John trailed off his cheeks pink with embarrassment. He was unaware of the fact that he was so verbal in his state of sleep. He had known to an extent as in the army they had tormented him about 'raunchy' dreams but he hadn't realised the full extent of the problem.

-Quite often I have nightmares Sherlock, about losing you, or you getting hurt.

-John, I didn't know. When I watch you I never once thought…I was causing you the pain. I'm so sorry.

-Don't be so bloody stupid, they're only dreams they don't mean anything. Hell you might even know that if you slept once in a blue moon.

The detective decided that this would be a good point in their conversation to come over all indignant.

-I DO SLEEP!

-Yeah and when you do you snore.

John suspected a sulk was coming on. A mere mumble was given in reply.

-I can't help it.

-It's okay it doesn't bother me, dafty.

-Good. Sometimes when I sleep I do dream though. Not often but sometimes.

-Do tell.

-What living with Mycroft used to be like, when we were little. Normally there's always something about summer when I was back from school and I remember stuff about my dad before he passed.

The doctor took the detective hand in his own, running his thumb lightly over the bony knuckles,

-Tell me what he was like.

-Proper, very proper. Quite similar to Mycroft in looks and he was strong, really strong. He used to talk, a lot. I actually think our fathers would have gotten on really well. He was the polar opposite of my mother.

Sherlock gave a soft smile. John, like Sherlock, had lost his father at a young age but the doctor had once commented on his own similarities with his father leading the detective to accept john's father as a decent and caring person.

-They would have, Sherlock they would have gotten on like a house on fire. Just. Like. Us.

He punctuated his words by running the thick fingers over the thin cheekbones.

-John you sleep like an eskimo, cocooned in blankets.

-And, you sleep with no blankets and your bum sticking out of the bed. There's no use in wasting the heat is there ?

Both men gave a light chuckle.

-So that's why you grip on to me is it Dr Watson ? To conserve body heat.

-Yeah…and it's comfy. Like having a teddy bear.

-Hardly.

-Okay an old ragdoll then.


	3. Chapter 3

John Watson "Clothes"

-Sexy clothes…

-What are you speaking about ?

- No I was-I – I – nothing.

John blushed with embarrassment.

-Sexy clothes ? Really John?

-No I was just thinking what 'sexy' clothes were.

-Well I hate to break it to you but you're not quite there with your jumpers. Something a little more revelling, form hugging perhaps?

The detective gave a small and warm smile in the older man's direction.

-Cheers. Surely you have to feel comfortable in your clothes to feel sexy though ?

-Valid point, expand.

-If you went out and your shirt was gaping or too tight you wouldn't feel right, you'd feel …

-Self-conscious ?

-Yes! You do know what I'm getting at here don't you ?

-Yeah I see what you're saying.

-When did it come about that tight clothes were 'sexy'?

-I actually like it, personally.

-Tight clothes on a person ?

-On occasions yes.

-Such as ?

John made an attempt to playfully extract the fetish from the dark haired man.

-Doctors.

-Arrrmy doctors ?

The sandy haired man looked at his feet and his voice was quiet.

-Doctors with strong bodies and soft bellies.

-oh well that's defiantly not me then !

The two men looked into each other's faces and laughed heartily.

-Army doctors, with blonde hair preferably, poochy bellies and old army shirts that are- a –teensy-weensy bit restricting…

-Like I said –

-Not you?

-Not me.

-Then perhaps you could suggest someone more to my liking ?

-The person I've got in mind is swave, sophisticated…refined.

-Refined! Is this one in the same army doctor who's belly sticks out of the bottom his pyjamas when he stretches to scratch his head by any chance ?

-Know him then do you?

-Met him in passing, think he was too busy eating at the time though ?

-Shut up ! I do not eat too much.

-Well go and put your 'sexy' clothes on and we'll see won't we.

-What's that supposed to mean? 'we'll see'….cheeky cunt. You never eat and your clothes are still bordering on too little.

-Sexy.

-If you say so.

-I do.

-No doubt you do Sherlock because _your_ belly never sticks out ! your clothes are hideous.

-John!

-Sorry… they're actually really nice. I'm just jealous, Sherlock I wish I had nice clothes like you, the body for them…

-Suppose it doesn't help that I make jibes about your body?

-I'm okay with that actually.

-What ?

-Sherlock I know what I am, I'm not stupid. I'm just rubbish at dressing myself that's all.


	4. Chapter 4

'Hair' Sherlock

"I bet you were a cheeky little git when you were a kid."

The comment had very much come out of thin air, but by no means had startles the doctor.

"Yes but I suspect that I got away with it more than you ever did."

"True. People never really took to me as a child."

John cleared his throat, shuffling awkwardly in between the covers of the bed, giving the detective a knowing look

"Or as an adult" the detective added quietly, regret filling the crevices of his face.

"Hey, hey look at me Sherlock." John hooked his fingers under the detective jaw bone

John nuzzled gently at the narrow face "It's alright, were getting on fine. Fuck the others." his words were soft as he consoled he man.

"I had goggles by the time I was nine."

John through his head back and laughed. "When did you get your lab coat ?" he tried jokingly

"By eleven. And I got all my glassware for my twelfth."

Too late he had been well and truly rumbled

"You were joking...weren't you ?"

"Yeah, a teensy bit."

" So you were a regular little boffin. With your little black curls and skinny little legs" A smile pricked at the edges of the doctors thin lips.

"Heh, not exactly."

"My god ! don't tell me you were a chubster !"

"No! No I wasn't fat John, Jeez."

"What then you had blonde hair?"

"Ginger."

"Ginger !"

"Yes John. Ginger"

"You used to be a Ginger ?"

"Uh…ehm…uh"

"Sherlock…"

" I – am Sherlock and I- I am a ginger…."


End file.
